Breathless
by bloodredcherry
Summary: “I have a question for you…” Not everything is as black and white as we would like it to be.


**Breathless**

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**Disclaimer: **I own nothing, besides Michelle. This story was written for entertainment purposes, no infringement intended.

**Authors Note:** I got the inspiration from the conversation David had with Catherine in _Room Service_. I wrote this because I could! I have no idea what happened between him and his wife so I am making my own assumptions. If I am incorrect, do not be afraid to correct me. I'm not sure if I have Hodges down at all, so if not, please forgive me.

This is a fluffy story, well… as fluffy as a Hodges story can get. So if this is not your cup of tea, you've been warned.

**Rating**: PG

**Summary**: "I have a question for you…" Not everything is as black and white as we would like it to be.

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He stood in front of his mirror, he was biting his top lip and his brow was furrowed. He looked down at his shirt then back over to the pile. He had already changed three times; he had passed right over the suit, he then had tried dress pants and a light blue shirt but he heard Greg Sanders voice in his head, _try hard_. So he took that off and decided on a pair of jeans. Jeans were harmless, non-committal. People wore jeans all the time. His only problem now was a shirt.

He had started out with an old favourite, his faded old university T-shirt, but then he quickly decided against it. There would be too many questions that he would not answer.

Next he had tried a long sleeved shirt, but he was nervous enough without all the extra fabric to constrict him.

_Nervous_, he snorted. He had no idea why, besides the fact that he had no idea where they stood and Catherine's little pep talk had done nothing to make him feel better. Besides, if it was just friends why did she hold his hand? There was a marathon of Alfred Hitchcock thrillers at the old theatre in town, and he had heard someone talking about how scary films were a great first date.

Sure she might have been clutching his hand in fear, but after the insane flock of birds had left David opened his fingers giving her an out. She didn't let go, and if he allowed himself to indulge in fantasy he could have sworn she'd held him tighter.

David let out a frustrated growl, "what the hell is your problem man?" He shook his head, and then he closed his eyes. He reached out blindly and fumbled through his pile of clothes, this way he would choose something without bias, and he couldn't go back on it. He finally pulled something out and opened his eyes; it was a brown track jacket he looked at the non offensive plain gray T-shirt he was wearing and then he shrugged and pulled on the track jacket.

He checked the clock beside his bed, it was only six thirty, and he still had thirty minutes to do his hair, brush his teeth and check Google Maps before heading out. He walked over to his night side table and picked up the piece of paper. It held her name—as if he might forget—her address and finally her telephone number. He picked it up and stared at it for a few moments.

He wasn't a novice to The Dating World. In fact he'd had plenty of girls… who were dates since his divorce. Back in college and then university he'd had a few serious relationships and one woman happened to marry him, but that was something he had decided _not_ to think about.

He cursed under his breath, anyone who said relationships got any easier with time were a _liar_. David was not completely incompetent at interpersonal relationships; he just wasn't very good at them. It probably didn't help much that he didn't trust people as easy as he used to, infidelity and deceit could do that to a person.

He glanced at his cordless phone, should he call her? Or would she have called him if plans had changed? He picked up the phone before he could change his mind. It was common courtesy to RSVP, and better to be safe than sitting in one's car feeling like an idiot.

He dialed her number and waited for it to ring; it rang four times before she picked up.

"Hello?"

"Hi, is this Michelle?"

"Yes?" There was a pause, "who is this?"

David remembered that he had never called her before, so of course she wouldn't recognize his voice. "Oh, David, David Hodges?"

Another beat, "oh, hi!" At least she sounded happy to hear from him "What's up?"

"Oh, just wondering if tonight was still on?"

"It had better be," Michelle replied, "I slaved for twenty minutes thawing the lasagna." She paused, and David heard noises on the other line. A steady beeping which he assumed was the oven. "Is that okay? I totally forgot to ask." She laughed, "You're not a vegetarian or anything are you?"

"No, not a vegetarian."

"Great, so should I still expect you for seven?"

"Yes, sure, of course."

"Okay… well I guess I'll see you then."

"Okay."

"Bye," Michelle said.

"Bye." David said, he smiled and clicked off the phone. He was more excited than he should be. But where was the crime? He could be happy to see someone, especially someone who got his favourite food right without even taking a guess.

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That is it for now, but this will be continued. Please review and let me know what you think! Constructive criticism is my friend, flames are not.


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